


Runes

by orsumfenix



Category: The Lorien Legacies - All Media Types, The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, F/M, magical au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 02:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4374224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orsumfenix/pseuds/orsumfenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Using the runes comes naturally to Joseph by now. Having a Chimaera bow down to him is less natural, but still something he can deal with. But then there’s the matter of Marina, and suddenly the world is a lot more complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Runes

* * *

 

**2.0**

* * *

 

He raises his hands and the runes inscribed on the ground burn brightly, turning golden. The image of the beast he has summoned appears in the air, frozen in a snarl. Marina watches in shock from her place on the ground, from where the Piken knocked her flat.

He flicks his wrists and the beast turns real, the golden sand transforming into flesh and fur. It snarls furiously, facing the Piken as if ready to launch into battle.

The Chimaera are infamous beasts, known for disobeying and attacking their masters. No Loric has ever controlled one before – all summoners have either gone berserk or been killed by the demon they have brought forth.

He probably won't be the exception; he’ll probably die within five minutes of the summoning, but when the Piken attacked Marina something inside of him just snapped and he'd never felt so angry.

In the heat of the moment, he'd summoned the Chimaera, and now he'll probably pay the price for that mistake.

Still, it's worth a try.

"Oh mighty Chimaera," a voice that he vaguely registers as his own (surely that can't be  _his_ voice – surely he can't really sound that calm) calls out. He brings his hands together and grips the amulet from around his neck, closing his eyes tightly.

The earth trembles beneath him as the wind picks up at the mere mention of the name 'Chimaera'. That was the first rule he'd been taught as a Loric – never speak the name of a beast or a demon. Names have power.

But power is what he needs.

The Chimaera turns to face him, still snarling. It's in the form of a huge lion, bigger than a usual one, but its skin is a deep black, the texture of its fur rough and scaly. He knows if he were to touch it he would slice his hand open on the beast's pure jaggedness.

Of course, he would be disintegrated immediately if he touched it.

“You will obey me,” he says, and _now_ his voice is trembling. “You will follow my commands. You will accept me as your master.”

It’s hopeless, really. There’s no way that a Chimaera will possibly listen to him. Even the most experienced and elder Loric have been unable to control demons such as Chimaera.

But the Chimaera does the last thing he expects to happen. It snarls and bends down on its front paws. It doesn’t look happy about it, but it bows its head, and the runes turn a bright, vibrant orange, which can only mean one thing.

The Chimaera has bowed down to him.

Instantly, he feels a surge of strength overtake him. New runes appear on his arms, and he’s pretty sure they’re on his face and legs and abdomen, too. They glow red, the colour of a master of a Chimaera.

(That’s always just been a legend, though. No Loric has summoned and successfully controlled a Chimaera since, well, forever. Not even the famous Pittacus Lore, who is a legend among legends, has managed to get a Chimaera to bow down to him.)

He can’t believe it. The Chimaera has accepted him as its master.

Marina is staring at him from the floor. She probably has a concussion, and she looks like she’s either about to throw up or go to sleep, but her eyes are wide opens and looking at him, the shock evident in her eyes.

It’s hard, but he forces himself to look away from her and at the Chimaera, which has now raised its head and is waiting for orders.

The Piken is watching with cold eyes. No doubt it is assessing the situation. Probably wondering whether the Chimaera is suddenly going to leap up and attack its summoner.

But, no. Once a beast has bowed down to a summoner, it cannot attack them.

And this beast had bowed down to him.

“Attack the Piken,” he says, locking eyes with the Chimaera.

And then it’s like the entire world has been put on mute and he can’t hear the Chimaera snarling and the wind racing and Marina gasping. The world just kind of blurs away. All he can see is the Chimaera’s bright green eyes (the same shade as his own) and the Piken’s black, empty ones.

Then it’s like someone’s switched the sound back on and all he can hear is the pathetic whimpering of the Piken as it is torn apart the Chimaera.

* * *

**0.0**

* * *

Runes have been in his life as long as he can remember. Even as a baby, Reynolds would carve runes into his crib to help him sleep and ward off any demons. After birth demons supposedly hunt down any Loric. The ones born from a mortal family often don’t survive simply because there are no runes to ward them off.

Apparently many different demons attempted to kill him, amongst them Krauls and Pikens, two of the deadliest demons of all. If the runes had not been there to protect him (and, according to Reynolds, even those had almost worn out)… Well. Let’s just say it wouldn’t have been pleasant.

He didn’t start school until much later than the other children in New Delhi, on the simple basis that at the time demons were attacking nearly every day. Demons seemed especially attracted towards him, for some reason. His entire life has been spent fending off demons and the like, occasionally summoned beasts. They’ve always come to him like moths come flames.

It’s very annoying.

The earliest rune he ever learnt was the symbol to Protect. It was the only reason he could begin attending school – because it kept demons away long enough for him to get a full day of schoolwork in.

(Though he’d often have to run home at the end of the day, chased by demons while Reynolds held them back long enough for him to bring the huge book with the rune for Banishment in.)

The first time the Council visit him is after an entire horde of Piken attack him in the local shopping centre, which was luckily full of ignorant mortals who refuse to see what is blatantly in front of them. Reynolds only just gets there in time to banish the demons before they kill the child he’s promised to protect.

“It is strange,” Loridas muses, who is seemingly the only member of the Loric council capable of speaking. “That demons seem especially drawn towards you. And very problematic, for both us and your Cepan.”

 _Cepan_. The fancy word for ‘Protector’, ‘Guardian’. Every Loric is assigned one, one that immediately bonds with them, and the two will stay bonded for life. Reynolds is his Cepan, the one who must protect him at all costs from those who might do him harm. Unfortunately, that seems to be a rather large amount of creatures.

“Yes,” he agrees, simply because he does not know what else to say.

“So, then, Naveen,” Loridas continues, violet eyes landing on him. “Any idea why?”

“Don’t call me Naveen,” he says sharply. “My name is Joseph.”

Instead of looking angry, Loridas simply looks amused.

“Your Loric name is Naveen, which is what I will address you as. Joseph is simply what mere mortals call you by. I am of your kind.”

He has to bite his tongue to keep himself from yelling at the guy. The rest of the Council is staring at him, which is pretty much what they have been doing since they arrived, but this time the gaze seems deeper, more intense.

“We do not know why demons are especially intent on killing _Joseph_ ,” Reynolds says from across the room, where he has been so silent he almost forgot the guy was there. “In the same way that no one knows why most mortals cannot see what they do not wish to see.”

Loridas’s nostrils flare, probably because he knows he’s been caught out. He looks at Joseph (not Naveen, never Naveen) one last time before leaving with the rest of the Council.

“We will be seeing you again, Naveen,” he says coolly just before he exits the door, fixing him with a gaze that sends shivers down his spine. “I can promise you that.”

The door shuts of its own accord, long after Loridas and the Council have left the house. A rune burns on it for a second in purple (the colour of the Council) before fading.

He now knows that, through this rune, the Council is going to be watching him.

* * *

 

**1.0**

* * *

The first thing he does as he arrives in the new house is draw the rune for protection on the door, watching as the gold fades into the wood on the front door.

No demon can now enter the house.

He goes inside, closely followed by Sharma, a Loric summoner that the Council sent to help him get settled in.

He looks around. It isn’t much, the house, but it’s clean and has all the essentials, even if it lacks all the little comforting things he had in his old house with Reynolds.

 (Don’t think about that. Don’t think about Reynolds. Don’t think about how you’re alone. Don’t think about how you’re probably going to die.)

Sharma helps him move his stuff him, the little amount that he has to shift. It’s mainly just scraps of paper with rough sketches of runes on them, sketches that Reynolds drew for him.

(Don’t think about Reynolds. Don’t think about the runes that he drew. Don’t think about what you’ll never get to learn together.)

He brings all the books into his ‘room’, a small room with barely enough room to fit the already small bed in. They all get dumped on the floor, shoved under the bed with the spiders and cobwebs that most likely lie in there.

“Are you gonna be alright?” Sharma asks when they’re done. He looks at the walls, already filled with scribbles and pictures that have pinned on the walls to ward off any demons that might try and attack. There’s even a protection rune from the Council themselves, so elegantly coloured in their purple.

“Yeah,” he whispers. Sharma nods like he doesn’t believe him, but doesn’t press the matter.

“Remember what we told you,” the older man warns. “No school. Don’t leave the house unless you have to. If any demon tries to attack, tell the Council immediately. And if… _she_ comes back, don’t try to face her alone. Call on any Loric, call on _every_ Loric that is in the general neighbourhood, or even _country_. Just… don’t think that revenge is more important than your life. It’s not.”

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, certain he’ll just burst out crying like he did when…

(Don’t. Don’t think about what happened. Don’t think about the tears mixed with the blood and the rain. Don’t think about how it poured like heaven itself was in mourning.)

Sharma goes to leave, but before he does, slightly hesitantly, he engulfs the younger boy in a hug.

“Take care of yourself, kid,” he says, before pulling away and patting his back. “You’re special. That’s a good thing.”

(Don’t think about that. Don’t think about how you being special is the thing that got Reynolds killed.)

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, it’s not.”

* * *

 

**2.1**

* * *

The Chimaera is graceful in its movements, somehow making tearing a creature apart seem elegant and beautiful. He watches in a kind of morbid curiosity, watches as the beast he now controls murders in cold blood.

Marina has somehow struggled to her feet, and is swaying uneasily. He’s tempted to help her, but _a)_ she’ll probably just shove him away and _b)_ he doesn’t want to risk breaking whatever ‘powerful master’ affect he might be having on the Chimaera.

He takes the moment to analyse his surroundings.

The house is almost entirely glowing, shining a bright red (gold, those used to be gold) and standing out boldly. It's a stark contrast between deep blood colour of the runes and the plain white of the walls, just as the runes are clear as day on his arms.

No doubt he looks ridiculous.

But the Chimaera clearly doesn't see it that way.

The purple rune that the Council seared onto his floor (for 'protection', they insisted, but he's certain they were just watching him) is shining brightly, almost blindingly, signalling that the Council is probably aware of what's going on.

Well, damn.

He'll probably have to move again after this, away, far away, off to some distant, far off place where he'll be even lonelier than before and probably not even allowed to  _think_ about leaving the house. The amount of runes surrounding it will be ridiculous, probably enough protection to keep mortals out.

He can just picture it in his head.

The 'protection' heavily layered. But he doesn't want to be protected.

He wants to be free to do whatever he pleases. And that's to be with Marina.

God, how much he wants to be with Marina.

This isn't going to end well, he can just tell. Who knows how to control a Chimaera? 

Marina looks at him, breathing heavily. She’s a mess, with her hair all mussed and her clothes torn. But the most striking thing is her eyes, full of fear.

“What…?” she pants, meeting his eyes. She scans him, taking in the runes and the way they’re glowing. She’s scared. Terrified, even.

“Marina,” he begins, but she cuts him off with just a single, panicked look around the room, where the runes all glow a bright red.

“I can’t-” she mumbles, stumbling slightly as she moves out of the house and through the empty doorway, where the Piken had ripped it from its hinges.

He looks at his hands once Marina is gone. They’re still covered in runes.

And they’re glowing blood red.

If she saw everything, despite being a mortal, then he’s in serious trouble. And so is she.

* * *

 

**0.1**

* * *

“You are getting older now. Soon you’ll need to learn the laws of being a Loric,” Reynolds says, looking him in the eyes. He stares back uncomprehendingly, not really understanding why they have to have ‘rules’ (he’s only seven, after all).

“Loric have rules?” he asks, mind racing. Reynolds shoots him an exasperated look, passing him an image of a strange picture, like a rune, but not like any rune he’s ever seen before.

“This,” his Cepan taps the drawing. “Is you. Or, at least, it will be, once you turn twelve. This mark will burn itself onto your ankle the moment you turn fully Loric, claim your powers, which is sometime when you’re twelve. It’ll probably be when your emotions are running high, so be careful not to do any stupid things when you suddenly receive your powers.”

Joseph sees something behind his Cepan out the window, making him freeze up with fear.

“Um…”

“I’ll help you to control your abilities, don’t worry. By the way, your abilities will be to make runes appear without having to draw them, and this will make them much more powerful. But they might occasionally appear when you don’t want them to. Concentrate. Try to make them fade, tell me immediately. Understand?”

“Rey…”

“Good. Now, you’ll probably be able to summon certain beasts. _Don’t_. That’s possibly one of the worse things you could do. They are uncontrollable. Seriously. And as for demons… I don’t think you’ll be capable of summoning them, but trust me, you don’t even wanna try.

“Also, never speak the name of a beast or a demon. Names carry power. You could accidently summon one just by saying the name, and summoners generally tend to get themselves killed when that happens.”

“But…”

“Try to avoid the Council as much as you can. I don’t care that they’re probably listening – if you see the Council you’ll probably be in trouble. Actually, on that note, try to stay out of trouble. You seem to be a magnet for it, but… Just, try, okay?”

“Yeah, but Reynolds…”

“Right, so that’s the basics covered. But, oh, Joseph, don’t trust tall, pale people. Trust me, they’re bad news. Their runes are black. _Black_. They aren’t Loric – they don’t have gold runes like we do. They have black ones, and if you ever see a black rune _anywhere_ , get away from it immediately.

“Something you should definitely keep in mind is…”

“Reynolds!”

A pause.

“What?”

Joseph’s eyes rest on something behind him. Slowly, he watches as the older man turns to look out of the window.

An entire _army_ of tall, pale-skinned warriors stand there, all holding long, pulsing swords towards the house. Black runes decorate the ground around them in a pattern of one big rune. Pikens and Krauls stand behind them, seemingly shifting from solid matter to black sand every few seconds.

It’s terrifying.

“Don’t worry,” Reynolds tries to comfort, but he can tell that the man is internally freaking out. “They can’t get in.”

One of the creepy guys raises his hands, and black runes appear all over the house for a single second before fading away. It could just be him, but the house seems to lose some of its homeliness in that second, just as a cold draft breezes through the room (despite the fact that it’s summer and none of the windows are actually open).

“Reynolds,” he says quietly, unconsciously gripping the sheet of paper with the drawing of his ‘rune’ on, as if that’ll somehow help. “I don’t think they want to get inside.” He takes a deep breath, not knowing how he came to his next conclusion but being certain that it’s true anyhow. “ I think they want to help demons to.”

* * *

 

**1.1**

* * *

After Sharma leaves, the house is silent.

He draws some runes to keep himself occupied, but then he just starts thinking of Reynolds and ‘Lola’ and…

He reads a bit, but the words begin to swim and he can swear it at every opportunity it gets it starts mentioning demons and Cepan and…

He tries washing some of his clothes in the brand-new washing machine but it just makes him think of Reynolds and how he always had to do the tasks like that, along with…

The doorbell rings.

He looks in the direction of door. Surely the Council aren’t checking on him already? He’s only been here for about an hour (a very boring, unproductive hour) in which the only things he’s managed to achieve are drawing runes all over the place and somehow depressing himself whatever he does.

He grabs a biro pen (he has hundreds) and draws the rune for Hide just in case, smiling when the runes covering the walls and the paper that some of them are drawn on blur, and he knows that any mortal will not be able to see what’s obviously there for him.

He opens the door to a girl about his age, seventeen, almost eighteen. She’s pretty, with long dark hair that really suits her and a nice figure. She’s blushing, though – really embarrassed by the looks of it.

“Um… Can I help you?” he asks politely, self-conscious of his tatty jeans that have biro squigglings of runes all over them and the over-sized purple top he threw on that morning. She looks equally as nervous in her pretty summer dress, one that actually suits her despite the rather vivid yellow colour and patterns of flowers.

She glances at one of the houses from over the road, where he can see a woman standing in the front room window, gesturing at her to do something.

She turns back, blushing heavily.

“My, uh, my mum wants me to give you these,” she stammers, holding up a plastic bag he hadn’t noticed before. She awkwardly hands it over and he accepts it cautiously, fully aware that this could be a demon (though he seriously doubts it). “As a welcoming present.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, not really in the mood for chatting.

It seems like she isn’t either, because she nods slightly and looks back to the house, as if asking her mother silently if she can leave.

Some sort of unspoken message seems to pass between her and her mother, because she turns back with crimson cheeks.

“I’m Marina, by the way,” she informs. “Marina Christiano.”

“Joseph…” he tries to think of a suitable surname. “Vishnu,” he finally settles on, simply because he’s always been fascinated by Hindu culture, especially as he grew up in India. “Joseph Vishnu.”

He likes that name.

It seems Marina does, too, because if it’s possible she blushes even brighter.

“I’ve, um, gotta go now.”

Marina crosses back over the road and leaves.

He shuts the door and takes the plastic bag to the kitchen, carrying it at arm’s length, slightly afraid it will blow up or something. A welcoming present, huh?

He finally sets the bag down on the table-top. A biro pen rune of Protect is enough to satisfy him into routing through it.

The first thing he notices: it’s absolutely _full_ of cinnamon cakes.

He’s allergic to cinnamon.

Great welcoming present.

* * *

 

**2.2**

* * *

The Chimaera eventually fades, dissolving into the sand from where it came. He is completely alone, now.

The red splattered across the house in the shape of runes fades, turning from a vivid blood colour to a kind of pale white. No runes he’s ever drawn have been that colour before. They’ve always been a brilliant, beautiful gold, the colour of a Loric summoner. Then they were red, but at least he knew what that meant. But white? As far as he can tell, no summoner, Loric or not, has ever had their runes turn white.

Always has to be the first, doesn’t he?

There is a knock on the door.

Some hopeful part of him thinks it’s Marina, back and ready to accept that he’s… different.

But, no. Even he knows that it will be the council, either ready to try and recruit him or pack him up and send him somewhere far, far away.

He answers the door anyway. You can’t just disobey the council. And they’ll probably find a way in without him letting them in.

“So,” Loridas says as soon as he’s opened the door, barging in, closely followed by the other members of the council. He looks out hopefully once they’re all inside, wishing for Marina to come running and hug him, but there is silence on the road. “Summoning a Chimaera.”

He shuts the door and follows them into the front room. They’ve never been to this house before, but they obviously know where they’re going. They’ve been watching him closely, that much is obvious.

“I had no choice,” he informs coldly. “The Piken was going to kill Marina.”

“Ah, yes, _Marina_ ,” Loridas suddenly has a very distasteful look on his face, as if even the thought of Marina makes him feel sick. “She is mortal, yes? And yet you have formed an attachment to her.” The Elder studies him with a curious stare. “Why is that?”

He suddenly feels uncomfortable under the judging stare of the Elders. They obviously don’t approve of being friendly towards a ‘mere mortal’.

(But mortals are just as important as Loric, in his opinion.)

“Well, I like Marina. She’s nice, she’s pretty, she’s friendly…” He trials off when he sees the look on Loridas’s face.

“And she’s also mortal. You know that. The Piken could have killed her, and as long as she is around _you_ , she will never be safe. You’re a magnet for demons, and a Piken has found you. It’s only a matter of time until more arrive. You should leave.”

The very idea of living send shivers through his spine. This is his home now. He doesn’t want to leave.

“I’m _not_ leaving.”

Loridas sends him a look.

“Do you know how many summoners before you have successfully summoned a Chimaera and lived to tell the tale?”

“None.”

“Wrong.” Loridas walks right up to him, getting in his face. “You are the first _Loric_ to successfully summon a Chimaera, but you are not the first _summoner_. Seven others before you have managed to do this, but none were like you.”

“But…” His mind is racing. “If they weren’t Loric, then what were they?”

“Mogodorians.”

* * *

 

**0.2**

* * *

“Reynolds?”

“Yes, Joseph?”

“…What’s a Mogodorian?”

He looks up at his Cepan, who is currently sketching a rune in his notebook. Reynolds flips the book closed, a strange expression on his face.

“Where did you hear that?”

He shuffles his feet nervously, recalling the scary picture he saw.

“It was in the Book of Beasts,” he mutters. He’d slammed the book shut as soon as he saw the picture of the ‘Mogodorian’, a picture that had sent fear running through him. They’re the people that were outside the house all that time ago, he knows they are.

“A Mogodorian,” Reynolds begins, a troubled look on his face. “Is the worst kind of demon. As in, they are part demon, part summoner. Versions of what Loric might be, if you wish. They are incredibly powerful, and dangerous, and it’s best if you just try not to think about them.”

Joseph pauses for a few seconds, looking up at his Cepan.

“Were those the things trying to help demons to get inside of our house?”

Reynolds just stares at him sadly, ruffling his hair.

“What have I just said? Try not to think about it.”

That just means yes, and he knows it.

Someone knocks on the door.

Reynolds glances at him, worry plastered on his face.

“Wait here,” he orders, going up to the door armed with a biro pen (a mighty weapon for someone like him). “Don’t move unless I tell you to.”

He does stay still, heart pounding as Reynolds unlocks the door.

“Hello?” he hears his Cepan cautiously ask, the older man clearly wondering whether to attack the person or invite them in.

“Hello,” he hears the other person say, an old man, by the sound of it. “The Loric Council have sent me. May I come in?”

Seconds later, Reynolds comes back tailed by a much older man, seemingly in his sixties or seventies. The man has his own runes drawn up his arm, shining purple, proving that this man is, in fact, acquainted with the council.

“Ah hello, young man,” the stranger greets, smiling in a way that seems genuine, which is a welcoming change from the cold, harsh grin of Loridas. “I am Devdan. Naveen, is it?”

“Joseph,” he corrects, smiling back, ignoring Reynolds raising an eyebrow at this. “Naveen is my Loric name, but I prefer Joseph.”

Devdan nods, as if he finds this reasonable.

“Well then, Joseph, may I talk to you?”

Joseph looks at Reynolds for permission, and following the older man’s slight nod of approval, he sits down on the seat next him, watching Devdan sit on the chair Reynolds was previously sat on.

“Now then, Joseph, am I correct in understanding that you are nine years old? Almost ten?” Devdan asks, smiling as if to say ‘you can trust me’. The young boy nods, grinning proudly.

“Yes,” he informs, still smiling like silly. “Then I’ll be in the two-digits.”

Devdan grins as if amused.

“That’s good. I’m very pleased for you,” he tells him, before his smile fades and he leans forward looking serious. “But something else happens when you turn ten. Do you know what that is?”

His own smile fades, turning into a look of confusion. He shakes his head.

Reynolds mutters something about making them food and leaves the room.

“Okay,” Devdan accepts, nodding. “It’s acceptable that you don’t yet know.”

They watch each other in silence for a few seconds, Devdan looking slightly tense, before he relaxes and nods again.

“When you turn ten,” he begins, and Joseph leans forward slightly and begins to listen with rapt attention. “Your summoning abilities begin to kick in.” It takes a couple moments for those words to sink, but as soon as they do so he frowns.

“Wait,” he says, re-rerunning through the information in his head. “Reynolds said that my powers start when I’m twelve.”

Devdan nods again, accepting, like he knew and expected this (he probably did, thinking about it).

“That is the general impression, yes,” he says, and Joseph likes the fact that Devdan actually _talks_ to him like an equal, instead of the Council, who talk down like he’s less-than-worthy. “And for most Loric, that would be true. However…” He trails off, raking his eyes down Joseph’s scrawny form, before smiling in a calming way. “You are a special case.”

Joseph nods as Reynolds comes back in, and his Cepan seats himself beside Devdan.

“Now,” Devdan continues, as though Reynolds’ presence has no effect on him, although even at his age Joseph can tell that this isn’t true. “It is true that your _summoning_ abilities are expected to arrive when you’re twelve. It is also true that, even from birth, Loric are able to use certain runes, simple ones such as Protect and Banish. You have used these on many occasions, if I’m not mistaken?”

It seems to be a rhetorical question, but Joseph nods hesitantly anyway, just in case Devdan needs it confirmed. Devdan also nods, slowly and thoughtfully, and some part of Joseph notes that he seems to do that a lot.

“On the latest occasion, an attack by a Kraul,” Devdan continues on, like he’s practised this speech many times. “You created and activated those two runes without having to draw them out. I’m not entirely sure if you were aware of this, but that is what the Council saw happen.” He takes a deep breath and clears his throat, before continuing. “Basically, Joseph, you would appear to be a prodigy – and that makes you very, very dangerous.”

* * *

 

**1.2**

* * *

“Oh,” he says in slight surprise, though it’s not an unpleasant one. “Hi, Marina.”

“Hi,” she greets back nervously, smiling sweetly. It’s a nice smile, Joseph thinks. She should do it more often.

They stand in an awkward silence for several moments, before he decides to get it over and done with.

“Did you… want something?” He thinks that the statement is a bit mean, but Marina doesn’t seem to take offence – she just flushes slightly and looks even more nervous. His heart flutters at the sight, almost as though a rune has been activated inside said organ – which he knows is impossible, but he doesn’t let that stop him from feeling as though this girl in front of him deserves all the runes in the world.

“Sorry,” she apologises, almost on instinct, and Joseph thinks that she seems like the type of person to say sorry when she doesn’t even need to. It’s rather sad, he thinks. She doesn’t seem very confident, though with her looks and personality she certainly should be.

(He barely even knows her, although it seems like he’s known her forever, and he supposes that she wouldn’t be herself if she was any less humble, any different at all, really.) (This is dangerous, he knows – just being in contact with her puts her in danger from Pikens and Krauls and Mogodorians, but just this once he lets his heart win the war instead of his head.)

“My mum wants to meet you,” she states, startling him slightly into paying attention. She smiles a little, still looking nervous, and Joseph wonders if Marina’s heart is thumping just as hard as his is in this moment.

And, despite all the instincts and training in him telling her _no_ , his voice says something different.

Joseph says yes, and wonders, later, why he ever did such a thing so carelessly.


End file.
